Something More | Randy

chapter four | mate

"How can I help you Ryan?" I asked nonchalantly, although my heart had already begun to pick up speed in my chest. 

"I know you're mad at me," he said, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed defensively across his chest. 

"I'm really not." I mumbled, continuing to play my game without meeting his eye. This must have annoyed Rye because he walked over and snatched the controller from my hand. "Oi-" I protested.

"I know you are because you've been talking to Mikey and Brook about it behind my back."

Fucking Mikey. "Fine, I was a bit pissed off with you," I conceded, "but it's really not a big deal, mate."

The word 'mate' left an ugly taste in my mouth. I met his eyes finally, detecting the smallest amount of hurt in them. 

"Why were you pissed?" He questioned. "You were fine this morning." 

I didn't have a good answer for that. Shit. 

I must have taken too long to respond, because Rye pressed on. "If it's about the girl from last night, I didn't know you liked her. I thought you'd just met."

"We did. That's why it's not a big issue. I just thought-" I cut myself off as I began a sentence that I couldn't finish.  

"You thought something might have happened." Rye finished for me. The ambiguity of that statement killed me. But I knew what he meant. He thought I'd wanted to take Kylie home and was jealous that the pretty girl had chosen him instead. I felt pathetic.

"I don't really care," I asserted, trying to save face, "I just thought that, on principle, it was kind of a dick move. You could have gone for anyone but you had to pick the one person I showed interest in."    

"Andy, you left," he replied simply, as if that made it okay.

"What was I supposed to do? Watch you two crack on all bloody night?"

Rye ran a hand nervously through his hair. "I don't know. I thought you might have stayed." 

What the hell did that mean? Did he really mean he wanted me there, watching him? Participating even?- No. I cut my thoughts off there. 

"I can't think of a single reason why I would have wanted to do that," I replied viciously. Rye's face hardened. 

"Right. So you don't like her at all then?" He asked brusquely. 

"Nope."

"Cool. So would you mind if I saw her again?"

I minded. I minded very much. But not for any acceptable reason I could admit to myself, let alone to him. 

"Go for it, mate." There was that little word again, tasting like poison on my tongue. 

Rye held my gaze for a few moments, as if trying to read something in my eyes. I gave him nothing.  

"Sick." He replied, and that was the inelegant ending to our discussion. 

***

Rye and I may have been 'cool' after our talk- to Mikey's annoying satisfaction- but we most definitely were not the same. The change in the nature of our relationship may have been subtle and potentially unnoticeable to the other boys, but for me it was all too apparent.

It was just little things. We still liked each others instagram posts, but the comments stopped. The physical affection all but disappeared, both of us reclaiming the personal space we used to completely disregard around one another. Every conversation was peppered with 'mate' and 'man' and 'bro' and 'buddy'. Friendly as the terms were in usual conversation, when Rye and I used them they were like little jabs.